Tales of Children
by Therabidsquirrel
Summary: We know basic childhood stories of Grin and Nosedive, why not the others? So, I got the idea to give details on turning points of the other ducks childhoods. Chapter 3 up. Chapter 4 on the way. ^-^
1. Wildwing Dacon

Tales of Children

Wildwing Dacon

I am working on several things at once, but I got curious and wondered… What were the Mighty Ducks like when they were children? Nosedive, we've covered, and Grin was covered in the show, but the others were kinda' left out. So, for Tanya, Mallory, Duke, and Wildwing I'm going for it. Canard on the other hand… I dunno yet. We'll see if I can think up something for that one. These stories just popped into my head one night… and now I'm suddenly working on several things at once! O.O *gasp* Once again! Hee. Actually it's kinda' fun. :) Normally I'm not good at multi-tasking, but I think fanfics are another realm… or something like that… entirely.

Kaeera, you have a good idea! I'll get back to you on it soon… I hope. Seeing as how we're all doing schtuff. I have one idea that might work… I'll let you know soon. :)

On with the fic!

*** 

Mighty Ducks… Disney. Disney… Mighty Ducks. Now that the ducks and their creators/ owners have met each other, we shall continue.

*** 

Five years of age. Yep, that's what he was on this fine day. Wildwing peeked out of his bedroom into the quiet living room of the three room house that his parents owned in the country, the third room was used for guests, which recently weren't many since his moms dad had died last year. No aunts, uncles, no more grandparents… this birthday was going to be a little boring this year, and a little lonely… but the now five-year-old would make do. 

With a mischievous look in his little eyes he quietly exited his room, which was covered with pro hockey player posters, and one especially big one of Drake DuCaine, every child's hero. He snuck past the couch, past the recliner that Daddy always sat in, Momma's rocking chair… he stopped at a wooden door and slowly opened it, peeking in. In a bed on the far wall slept his parents, his fathers arms around his mother. Wildwing smiled softly, then took a deep breath. With that he tore into the room and with a battle yell he leapt onto the bed getting a cry of surprise from his mother and a grunt from his father.

"HI!" he exclaimed cheerfully. 

"Aw Wildwing…" his father moaned. His mother however smiled and ruffled his hair sleepily.

"Happy birthday honey." She told him lovingly.

"What time is it?" his father muttered, having pulled a pillow over his head and causing Wildwing to laugh at him, then crawl over and give exaggerated grunts as he tried to pull the dark blue pillow away. A tug of war commenced.

"Seven thirty-five Terry." His mother told his father. Wildwing gave a cry of triumph as he got the pillow away from his father Terry, then succumbed to a fit of giggles as he was tickled unmercifully.

"Seven thirty-five? You got us up at seven thirty-five?!" he asked as he continued to tickle the small duckling who was laughing uncontrollably. "You weren't born at seven thirty-five! Isn't that right Amy?" he exclaimed, grinning.

"Well, if he got us up at the time he was born, we'd be up at one in the morning." Amy told them. The tickling stopped and Wildwing lay in his fathers arms, catching his breath.

"That's really late." The child exclaimed after a moment. He cried out in laughter as he was tickled again.

"No, it's extremely early." Terry grinned, chuckling softly as he watched his son squirm. He stopped once again, allowing Wildwing time to breathe.

"Was I really born at one in the morning?" Wildwing asked after a moment as he lay in his fathers arms. Amy nodded and ruffled his hair again lovingly.

"Yes honey, you were." She told him. She smiled at him, then put her hands on her hips. "So. What are your plans for today?" she asked him, smiling playfully. Wildwing grinned at her, then up at his father.

"Ice rink!" he exclaimed, tossing his hands into the air. Terry chuckled at him.

"Ice rink it is son! But first, what do you want for breakfast?"

"WAFFLES!!!!!!"

^_^

The ice rink was filled with ducks of all ages skating around or playing hockey. The city of DuCaine was the only city on all of Puckworld that kept ice on the streets all year round. It was hard to explain, and no one bothered. Terry Dacon held tightly to Wildwing's hand as Amy skated ahead to talk to someone she knew. Wildwing stayed close to his father, clinging to the elder mallards pants leg with his free hand.

"There's a lot of ducks here, huh Wildwing?" Terry asked softly, smiling comfortingly down at the duckling. Wildwing nodded and drew closer to his fathers leg. Terry smirked, then whistling some odd tune softly, he began skating forwards slowly, Wildwing following closely and unassuredly. They made it to the rink, and Wildwing looked around quietly. Some kids were playing ice hockey, others were playing something else that consisted of a red ball that was either slid on the ice, or thrown. Wildwing pointed to the group playing this.

"What game is that Daddy?" he asked. Terry looked in the direction the child was pointing and shook his head.

"Schnooze ball, I think. I guess that's what they call it. There aren't really many rules, but I do know that you can only have the ball in your hands for a certain amount of time, and if it's dropped it has to be picked up before I think maybe five seconds or the games over." He said. Then he looked down at Wildwing and shrugged. Wildwing merely smiled back at his father happily. Terry smiled back, then nodded towards a clear spot on the ice. "Come on big guy. Let's go skate. Can't be the best hockey player since Drake DuCaine if you're not good at skating." He grinned. Wildwing held onto his hand as they started off, keeping his balance well and cheering when his father would turn and pull him along. They had been doing this for quite a while when a series of cries came from behind.

"LOOK OUT!!" some one cried in warning. Without even turning, Terry picked up Wildwing and leapt to the side, a dark feathered duckling rushing past, stick in hand and an ugly look on his face.

"OUT OF MY WAY LOSERS!!" he shouted. He couldn't have been much older than Wildwing, maybe seven, but his manners were… non-existent. Wildwing blinked, staring with an open jaw in shock and amazement that someone could be so rude as his father looked behind him, holding his son in his arms tightly.

"What the heck was that?" he asked as a gray feathered duck skated over, her white hair pulled back in a ponytail at the base of her neck.

"Some kid who's been terrorizing the rink for a while." She told him, her green eyes burning with anger. "Been in and out of Juvie all year. His parents don't give a flip about him and none of us really know his name. Some of the kids do but… you know." She shrugged and skated away as Amy hurried over worriedly.

"Are you two alright?" she asked them. Wildwing looked at her and nodded.

"Daddy has eyes in the back of his head." He said, thus causing Terry to snort laughingly and muss up the child's hair.

"Nah. Just got good senses every now and then." He grinned, looking at Amy. She gave him a quiet look, then held her arms out to Wildwing who leaned out and went to her without complaint.

"Neither of you are hurt?" she asked, noticing a few other parents doing the same with their young children as well. Wildwing shook his head violently, then whined to be let down. He wanted to skate. Amy sighed and let him down. "You be careful and stay away from that big kid understand? And don't you dare go doing what he did to anyone else." She told him. Wildwing nodded.

"I won't Momma. I promise." He said, skating over to his father shakily, then grabbing hold of the elder mallards pants leg. "Come on Daddy!" he exclaimed happily, looking up at his father in admiration. Terry smiled and nodded to his wife, who nodded back and watched the two skate off. It was the first time Wildwing had met Grin, and neither ducks had ever realized it.

O.o

Years had passed, and Wildwing was now ten years old, and watching as his mother Amy held a little bundle in her lap as she sat in her rocking chair.

"His name is Nosedive." She was telling him. Wildwing looked at her, then at his dad who nodded.

"It's a common name out west." Terry told him. "I had a friend once named that." He explained. Wildwing grinned and shook his head.

"I don't have a problem with the name." He told the elder mallard. "Just… you guys never explained why you waited so long to have him. Would've been a lot cooler if he'd been around a few years ago." He told them, walking over and rubbing the babies beak and grinning when Nosedive squealed happily and reached out a hand, locking his tiny fingers around one of Wildwing's. "Hey baby bro." Wildwing whispered softly, reaching out with his other hand and touching the tiny strands of golden hair.

"We've been trying for years to have Nosedive." Amy said softly as she watched her sons interact. "He just took his time getting here." She smiled as Wildwing played a little with his new brother. Wildwing then grinned.

"Yeah, well don't make that a habit baby bro." He grinned brightly. Terry and Amy shared a look, then Amy looked back to her eldest son.

"You want to hold him?" she asked. Wildwing looked up at her, rather surprised.

"Can I?" he asked. She nodded, standing.

"You sit and you can hold him."

"Mom…"

"Do you want to hold him?"

"Yeah."

"Then sit." Wildwing did as he was told and his father laughed from where he leaned on the back of the couch, arms crossed.

"Good hound. Have a biscuit." He grinned. Wildwing made a face and stuck out his tongue.

"Hey, now that I got a baby brother…" he started as he took Nosedive carefully from his mother. "Does that mean I can have a hound?" he asked.

"Not till your brothers older big man." Terry told him. "Those beasts are a mess."

"Aw… Dad…"

"Whining will get you no where."

"Hey, I could always try…" he stated with a small shrug. Then he looked down at his little brother and let the baby grab hold of his finger again. "Hey baby bro." He whispered softly, thankful that he wasn't an only child anymore. He didn't notice his parents watching him proudly.

^_^

Two years had passed, and Nosedive was clinging to Wildwing's legs, his thumb in his mouth as he watched a bunch of strange people walk around their house and into the house as he and Wildwing stood outside quietly. Nosedive looked up at his brother and took his thumb from his mouth.

"Where's Momma?" he asked. Wildwing looked down at him, a sad look on his face and tears in his eyes.

"She's gone Dive. Her and Dad are gone." The elder brother said softly, brokenly. Nosedive looked up at him in confusion.

"Where'd they go?" he asked. Wildwing merely looked at him for a long while, then sighed and kneeled down next to his brother.

"They…" he shook his head and put a hand on the child's shoulder. "They went to stay with the Great King." He muttered.

"When are they coming back? Why didn't they take us with them?" Nosedive asked. Wildwing shook his head.

"They couldn't take us Nosedive… and they're not coming back…" he was crying openly now and Nosedive was watching him, fear and worry written on his small face.

"Don't cry. It'll be okay." The young duckling told him. Then the child threw his arms around his brothers neck and held on tight. Wildwing held Nosedive just as tightly, the pain of losing his parents still fresh. An escaped convict had made his way out into the country in the night, and while Nosedive and Wildwing were out goofing off a ways from the house during the day, the deranged duck had broken in and murdered the two's parents, then fled the scene. A friend had come to visit soon after and found the bodies and called the authorities, then rushed to find the two children.

"Whywing?" Wildwing looked at his little brother. "You're not going to leave, are you?" Wildwing shook his head and lifted Nosedive up as he stood, holding the child in his arms.

"I will do everything I can to stay close to you Dive." He said seriously. "Just remember that no matter where you are, whether you see me or not, I'm right there with you. And so are Mom and Dad. We're never going to leave you Nosedive." He hugged his brother close. "Never in a million years."

It was then that a social worker approached them and led them away, Wildwing and Nosedive staying together for the entire trip to the city, and till they reached the orphanage. They were not to be parted if they could help it. No matter how many miles were put between them, somehow or another they were always together.

End


	2. Mallory McMallard

Mallory McMallard

*** 

Okay, this is the next chapter. Yea! ^-^ I hope you are all enjoying this! On with the show!

*** 

Mighty Ducks belong to Disney. Yep, they do! Yes sir. They don't belong to me. :( Ah well. I'll survive *sniffle* somehow…

*** 

"GERONIMO!!!"

"LOOK OUT!!"

"OW! HEY!"

"OUCH!"

"MALLORY!!!"

Mallory cheered and threw her arms into the air, happy that she'd finally managed to catch her elder brothers off guard. Then she squealed as her eldest brother Mitch lifted her up and flipped her upside down.

"Alright little missy. Payback time." He growled as the youngest brother Jacob paused the video game they'd been playing. It was a racing game of some sort that they only played if they were bored, and it was raining outside so it seemed the best thing to do. Mitch grinned as he tickled Mallory, turning his head a little so his short red hair would get out of his eyes.

"Leggo!" Mallory yelled at him, giggling and squirming.

"Hey! Toss her here!" called the shortest of the four, the second eldest who also had short blonde hair, Gavin.

"Here ya go." Mitch flipped her around again and threw her to Gavin, causing her to scream. Gavin caught her and flung her into the air, just keeping her from hitting the ceiling.

"Hey watch it!" came the middle child, and the one duck that didn't look anything like his brothers and sister. He had one brown eye and one completely white eye, with gray hair cut short and a light brown coloring to his feathers. He was also more muscular than the others were, his green wife beater showing off these muscles. He wore a pair of jeans, his socked feet underneath him as he was sitting Indian style on the couch now, instead on lying on the floor as they had been moments before. Jacob ran a hand through short blonde hair.

"He's not going to hurt her." He said calmly. "You worry too much Alex." With that he stretched and yawed widely as Gavin tickled Mallory unmercifully, the seven-year-old screaming with laughter and kicking as she tried to get away. Mitch headed towards the doorway, then stopped and shushed them all.

"Hey guys! Listen!" he whispered softly. The room quieted down and Mallory blinked as she listened for something… anything. It came in the form of their mother yelling at their father about early morning wake up calls.

"THIS IS NOT A BOOT CAMP!!" echoed into the room a moment later.

"Yeah. Boot camps not as strict." Gavin snickered, causing his other brothers to snicker as well. Mallory looked at Alex who grinned.

"Wait a few years." He told her. "You'll understand when it's your turn to go." He said. Jacob snorted, rolling his eyes as plopped down on the couch next to his youngest older brother.

"Yeah right." He muttered. "Mom's going to actually keep her home and turn her into a little woman wearing pink and really frilly dresses…"

"SHE WILL NOT!!" Mallory yelled angrily, standing up with her hands on her hips. "I hate pink!" she exclaimed. Her brothers laughed aloud at her, causing her to go red under her feathers in anger. "It's not funny!" she shouted furiously, throwing her now fisted hands down at her side.

"Calm down Mallory." Jacob grinned.

"It's not funny…" Mallory pouted, crossing her arms again. Alex frowned at her.

"Did you know that you're face gets really long when you do that?" he asked her. "You look like a little beast. Kind of like Jacob in the morning…" he cried out as he was suddenly attacked with a pillow that flew suddenly into his line of vision.

"Being blind in one eye has it's disadvantages doesn't it!" exclaimed Jacob with an evil grin. It was his turn to cry out as Mallory ran and leapt onto his back with a battle cry.

"Yeah, but I've got Mallory on my side you little geek!" Alex exclaimed, picking the pillow up again, then nodding to the little red head, who suddenly backed away, only to cheer as Alex pummeled Jacob with the pillow.

"Help! Some body help me!" Jacob cried as he laughed. Gavin leapt forward, grabbing Alex by putting his arms beneath the elders arms and pulling his own arms back, locking his hands behind the elders head.

"Get out of this one bro!" Gavin laughed.

"Hey! No fair!"

"Raah!" Mallory locked herself onto Gavin's legs, nearly the bowling the twenty-six-year-old over.

"Hey! No midget interference!" Mitch exclaimed, grabbing her and lifting her away.

"I am not a midget!" Mallory stated angrily, nearly kicking the twenty-nine-year-old in the gut.

"Hey!" Mitch cried out in protest.

"Hey guys, we'd better chill." Jacob said suddenly. "Mom will probably be in here in less than a second claiming we're being to violent." He warned.

"Gavin… let go… I can't… breathe!" Alex gasped, trying to free himself.

"Dude, you guys panic too much." Gavin stated, a smirk on his face as he jokingly tightened his grip. "And this doesn't hurt. We do it all the time!" he grinned. Mitch snickered, and let Mallory go as she calmed quickly, then stared at her two brothers quietly as Alex's breathing suddenly turned raspy.

"Gavin…" she said softly.

"Gavin, let him go!" Jacob exclaimed, standing with panic in his eyes. Gavin's face held confusion as he released his grip and his younger brother fell to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath. Concern replaced confusion.

"Hey, Alex? You okay?" No answer save for coughing. "Man, it was a joke. I didn't hurt you did I?" he asked worriedly, kneeling beside his brother. Alex pushed him away angrily, regaining his breath.

"I'm fine." He growled stubbornly.

"What's going on in here?" Those standing stood straight as they turned to see an elder mallard with tan feathers and blonde hair in a buzz cut.

"We were goofing off…" Gavin started. Alex stood suddenly, as if nothing were wrong with him.

"I just choked on some popcorn." He said suddenly, calmly as if talking to a higher-ranking officer. "Nothing to be concerned about." He lied. Green eyes sparked with distrust, an eyebrow raising, but his father nodded anyway.

"Alright then. Carry on, but don't you dare break anything." He ordered.

"Yes sir." Came the sharp reply from all five of his children. An exasperated sigh came from the kitchen.

"I am living in a boot camp." Came a woman's unhappy moan. Their father shrugged and turned away, heading back to the kitchen. Those left in the room immediately turned to Alex suspiciously.

"Pop corn?" asked Jacob. "We don't have any pop corn." He pointed out. Alex glared at him, then ran a hand threw his hair.

"I'll be in my room if you guys need me." he muttered softly. The others watched in silence as he left. Once he was gone the brothers shrugged and Mallory stood in the doorway, watching as they headed back to the game less one player.

"We starting over then?" asked Mitch.

"Yeah. Alex isn't gonna be coming back anytime soon. You know how he is." Gavin muttered, the three ignoring Mallory completely. She watched them for a moment, then went to the kitchen. Might as well try and help Mom with the cooking… her train of thought immediately jumped tracks as she passed by the staircase which Alex had just gone up moment before. Looking back at her other brothers, she frowned, then headed up the stairs.

^-^

"Alex?" he turned and smiled when he saw Mallory standing in the doorway to his room.

"Hey squirt." He said to her, rubbing his left eye wearily… his blind left eye. The only reason he'd been allowed in the army in the first place with a blind eye was thanks to his father pulling some strings. 

He put his hand out to set it on the bookcase, then frowned and blinked rapidly when his hand didn't find it. He sighed and merely sat onto his bed, head in his hands in frustration. Mallory watched him quietly, then walked in and sat next to him on his bed. His room was extremely clean, as was everyone else's, a dresser near the door, a bookcase at the foot of his bed, which rested against the opposite wall of the dresser.

"Are you okay?" she asked him quietly. He shook his head.

"All I ever wanted to do was be like Dad." He said suddenly, softly. "I wanted to serve in the military so badly that I even begged him to get me up to go jogging with him in the early hours of the morning before school." He muttered almost brokenly. "Then I got sick… not even a year before you were born short stack." He told her. She merely pulled her legs up onto the bed and sat with her feet facing the wall. "And I lost my sight in my eye. If Dad hadn't been able to pull any strings I wouldn't be doing all the stuff I do now."

"Why are you telling me this?" Mallory asked softly, a cold feeling in her stomach. Alex shrugged.

"I dunno." He muttered. He rubbed his face and stared unseeingly at the far wall. He was silent for a long while, Mallory watching him worriedly. "Mallory…" he shook his head, closing his unseeing eyes. "I'm losing my sight in my right eye." He told her suddenly. "And I can feel myself getting sick again. I just keeping praying that maybe… maybe it will go away, but it keeps getting worse." Mallory felt as if she were going to cry. Alex looked so weak, so tired and frail… and she hated that. Her brothers were strong, and Alex was the strongest. He was the one that had the most faith in her as well. Her favorite hero was Alex, the one who would always take her aside after he'd finished training and teach her any new move she asked him too. If she begged well enough he'd teach her two moves in one day, and he was the one to cheer her on when she did well, or he was the one forcing her on when she felt like giving up. She scooted closer to her brother and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Maybe you won't get sick." She said quietly, hopefully. Alex shrugged, then put an arm around her to comfort her. Funny, when it was she who wanted to comfort him in the first place.

"We can only pray." Alex muttered. They sat in silence till they were called for dinner. By that time, Alex could see well enough again and he was joking with Mallory about her height as they came down the stairs, keeping the others in the dark about his worries. Mallory said nothing, feeling it wasn't her place to say something anyway. As dinner began and continued, she forgot her worries. For now, everything was fine and as far as she was concerned, it would remain fine.

o.o

Violent coughing roused her from her sleep in the middle of the night, and she got out of bed to find where it was coming from. As she walked out of her room she saw her brother Mitch stick his head out of his bedroom door sleepily, blinking in weariness and confusion. He frowned as he saw Jacob standing in Alex's doorway. Mallory hurried over as Mitch stepped out of the room wearing a shirt and a pair of dark colored boxers.

"More popcorn?" he asked rather snidely. Gavin snickered as he came out of his room wearing a pair of long gray sweat pants and no shirt. Jacob shook his head, holding onto the sleeves of his gray T-shirt worriedly, also wearing a pair of gray sweatpants.

"Alex is sick." He told them softly. He quickly grabbed Mallory as she tried to run into the room. "No way Mal. Mom want's us to stay out here." He told her softly. She struggled and looked in to see her brother lying on his bed coughing, the twenty-three-year-olds eyes shut tightly as if he were in pain as their mother applied a damp wash cloth to his forehead. Their mother had red hair to her shoulders and yellowish feather coloring, a blue robe wrapped tightly around her slim figure.

"Mom?" Mallory asked. Her mother turned.

"Jacob, take Mallory back to her room alright?" she asked. Jacob nodded, pulling the little girl away.

"No!" she cried in protest. "I want to stay with Alex!" she shouted unhappily.

"Do you need any help Mom?" Mitch asked, sticking his head in the doorway.

"No. But go ask your father if an ambulance is coming. He's downstairs." Came their mothers voice.

"Ambulance?" Mallory asked, trying to kick her way out of her brothers grasp. It was no use as her eighteen-year-old brother had a firm hold on her. "Let me go Jacob!" she cried in frustration.

"I will when you calm down!" he retorted angrily. "Alex will be fine, so just go back to be alright?" he asked, then he dropped her on the floor of her room and shut the door behind him, locking it from the outside and relaying this information in a shout to Gavin who okayed this. His footsteps echoed down the hall as he came to guard her room. Mallory yelled in frustration and stared at the door angrily, her whole body shaking. Then with a strangled cry she threw herself onto her bed and held her pillow tightly over her head. There was no way she was going to let anyone know that she was crying. She just wanted to know if Alex was okay.

O.O

The hospital room had been small and quiet. She'd hated the room when she'd gone in it. Why she was thinking of it now, she didn't know.

She was twelve now, standing before a commanding officer as he eyed her, making sure her uniform was straight and clean. Inspections. They were the worst. They also always gave her time to think. Time to think about when she'd gone to see Alex in the hospital, only to find that he could no longer see her. Her family had left her alone with him per his request, and for the first time in a long time she'd cried openly. They both had, and they hadn't since. It was that day she'd promised to carry on his dream for him. To take his place and be as good as their father Commander McMallard was. After that day she'd begged her parents to send her to a private military school for elite youngsters. Her brothers thought she'd gone insane, claiming that it would be hundreds of times worse than anything they had to do, that she'd be in the military for life if she did what she was asking to do. It only made her want it more. After a long while her parents had folded and signed her in, the school excepting her almost immediately because of who her father was and how hard he worked for the military. There were many who were wary of her, feeling that she didn't have the potential, but she proved them very wrong. The only place she had any problems was in electronics, but she was one of the best sharp shooters, fighters, you name it and she did it with passion. The government loved her drive to work hard, never realizing it was because she wanted to do it for a brother who couldn't. Over time Alex's dreams and hers melded together and she wasn't just doing it for him. She was doing it for herself as well. 

"Good job McMallard." Her commanding officer saluted her and she saluted back, the two of them dropping their salute at the same time. "Keep up the good work." He told her, walking away.

"Yes sir." Mallory said with a short nod, then moving on to her next point of duty. She could understand why Alex had loved this so much. It seemed to have a way of growing on you. She smiled softly as her eyes drifted to the different parts of the hall before her, remembering each detail as best she could. She'd have a holiday in a few days, a whole week at home with her family. She was looking forward to describing how everything looked to her brother once she got home. It was just something they did, and he always told her that he enjoyed it. Her smile grew. Even though Alex was blind now he still hadn't given up, learning how to work things and help the military with certain machinery. His drive was stubbornness, the will not to give up. Even though he wasn't doing what he wanted, he was still going. And that was the reason, that he was still her hero.

End


	3. Duke L'Orange

Just a minute I'd said. It will only take a moment of your time, I really wish you'd come I'd said. You promised me you'd come. You promised me you'd be there, that you wouldn't miss it for the world. But as I searched the crowd, right before the timer gave out, right before I hit that last puck into the goal… I realized that you weren't there. You're probably wondering how I'd ever be able to spot you, in a crowd so 'large'. Dad, how easy is it for you to forget that we live on the dark side of town? How hard is it for you to forget that only three people ever come to the games on normal days? This day was no different from any other Dad… complete with the fact that you weren't there. You never are. Never…

****

Tears of a Past best forgotten

Duke L'Orange

The house was a mess, which was normal. Hardly ever was anyone there to actually clean it up. Bottles lay strewn about everywhere, clothing tossed lazily across what might have passed for furniture had it not been covered with garbage, making it seem more like there were several trash bins scattered about. 

It wasn't a large house, the living room being the first thing you'd see, then a kitchen immediately across from the front door and a bedroom to your left or to your right. However, the floor was something you wouldn't see as it was littered with debri and dust. Fourteen-year-old Duke looked around in disgust, then threw his hockey stick in a fit of anger across the room. It slammed into the wall, the tip breaking off finally. No matter how much tape he used this time, it would never be repaired. A thud sounded from somewhere, an elder mallard stumbling out from the room the stick pieces lay in front of. The dark feathered mallard squinted down at the stick as he ran his fingers through his short ragged hair. He then looked up at Duke.

"Loose your game?" he asked, his words seeming to melt together as he rested on his door panel to keep from falling over. Duke stared at him, hurt on his face.

"You're drunk!" he exclaimed.

"No 'm not…" was his fathers reply. He pushed away from the door panel and fell over as he tried to walk over the obstacle course before him. He sat up, chuckling. "Okay… maybe I am…" 

"Stupid old man…" Duke growled softly as his father managed to stand. "I'm going out."

"Get me a drink while you're gone would'ja?" the slamming of a door was the only reply that met the dark feathered mallard.

*-*

That was home life. This was street life. The 'family' needed income. More like Duke needed income. His mother had left years ago and his father… well, his father was the same as always. Drunk and workless. If Duke wanted money or food he had to fend for himself.

'Everyone starts somewhere.' The words echoed through Duke's mind as he stood on a street corner, his hands in his pockets as he watched ducks skate by. Why the thought had even entered his mind he wasn't sure, but his stomach was growling and he knew one thing. He needed some money. He smirked as he saw a mallard and his wife stopping at the window of an extremely nice store, the two of them eyeing the jewelry within. Poking out of the mallards back pocket was a piece of leather that was folded over and otherwise known as a wallet. A very fat wallet.

"Remember, one really good deed for the rich is to give to the poor." Duke muttered as he looked around for any cops. There were none and the couple was starting to move away. "I'm just helping you do your good deed for the day." He smirked as he pulled up the collar on his jacket and slowly started after the two. He followed them closely for a while as they continued with their window shopping, the rather large crowd milling about them pressing into them and walking by. Duke frowned. If he didn't hurry, someone would beat him to the punch… He hurried over as the couple stopped once more, then grabbed the wallet as he passed by and high tailed it as the tan duck suddenly turned in surprise, having felt slight movement behind him. Duke stopped at the far corner, the wallet shoved into his pocket as he watched the mallard frown, then pat his back pocket and start in surprise. Realizing his wallet was gone he began yelling at the top of his lungs, his wife pulling her jacket tighter around her large frame. Duke smirked and skated slowly away. Next victim… walking around the corner…

*-*

"Not bad. Not bad at all." He grinned, sitting cross-legged on the dusty concrete floor of an abandoned underground hockey rink and examining his spoils of the day. Years before his time, ducks had played underground games that had no rules. But after ducks started actually being killed out on the ice, the games were banned and the rinks shut down. No one could even find the entrances anymore due to them being covered up with sheet rock and metal. However, Duke had a lot of spare time and on one search of a haven to stay at when his father was raving drunk, he'd found one underneath an abandoned arcade. It had many other entranceways true, and he used them all, but the arcade was closer to home.

"Man, the people around here are seriously loaded!" Duke grinned, fingering the money he'd pulled from the leather wallet he'd stolen earlier. He grinned at the large digits, then frowned as he pulled out several plastic cards. How tempting it was to use these… and how idiotic the thought. He put the plastic cards back. Money cards were extremely easy to trace and to use a stolen one was like begging to be arrested. He'd seen it happen to many thieves before, and he was not about to make the same mistake. He went back to looking through the wallet, curiousity getting the best of him. There were more than twenty plastic cards, a packet of pictures taken of wild animals, and underneath a flap a… Duke let out a whoop of laughter and fell over backwards, the wallet clutched tightly in his left hand.

"A cop! I robbed a freakin' cop!" he laughed loudly, his voice echoing through the empty dome. He calmed, snickering. "No… a secret agent even! Oh this is rich!" he exclaimed, looking at the wallet again and reading the badge as he lay on his back, his knees bent. "Wallace E. Featherington." He read aloud. He grinned. "You are now broke!" he said, pointing at the badge and laughing. After a while he calmed and sat back up, shaking his head violently to get the dust out of his hair. Then he rubbed the back of his head quickly, dirt flying. He snorted at the disturbed dust in the air, then tossed the wallet aside. "Not a very good secret agent if a kid can rip you off." He muttered. "But thanks for the donation anyway." He grabbed the next wallet he'd stolen and frowned. "Hmm. Somebody's broke." He stated, looking through. He sighed, then tossed the woman's wallet aside. "Nope. Just grabbed the wrong one." He stated, his shoulders hunching over. "Great. Got a government lap dog, then I go straight for some old biddies wallet o' pics. Wonderful." He picked up the next wallet. It was brown and worn, yet extremely fat. He opened it up and frowned. Pictures of a large family greeted him, the faces of several smiling ducks grinned at him. He rolled his eyes. "Must be nice to have a real family." He muttered, checking for money. "Jackpot." He stated, pulling out several bills. He set the money down in a slowly growing pile. After a while he had a large sum, which he gladly counted grinning as he realized that he would be set for weeks. The grin turned to a frown. Set for weeks… yeah right. He sighed, grabbing a few bills and stuffing them in his pocket, then reaching over and lifting up the wallets. Time to put the money to good use.

o.o

"Hey mister? Spare some change?" an old raspy voice from behind caused an eighteen-year-old Duke L'Orange to turn and frown. Instead of finding an elderly homeless duck, he found himself staring up at a middle aged duck whose feathers were brown with dirt and grime. He was grinning toothlessly, a cruel gleam in his eyes as he held out a dirt calloused hand palm up. Duke turned around completely, facing the giant unafraid.

"What makes you think that I have any money?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in a glare as he gave the duck the once over. The offending giant was wearing a large tattered trenchcoat that could easily be reached into, and behind him in an alley lay another duck who would never move again. And *he* was just a child. The behemoth before him stopped for a moment as Duke's features changed to a look of fury.

"Stupid kid, give me your money!" he growled, grabbing the front of the teens shirt. That was a mistake, for a split second later he was gawking wide eyed at the switch blade that was in his face, a gun pressed to his midsection. "H-hey! Those are mine!"

"No **** Sherlock." Duke growled. "Now let go of my clothes. I had to wait weeks to get it off that stupid snub nosed goth wanna be's laundry line." The shirt was released and he stepped away, gun and switchblade still raised.

"Now hold on kid, don't do anything you'd regret…" the larger duck said calmly, backing away and reaching to put his hand in his jacket. The gun cocked and he froze.

"Did I say you could move?" Duke asked angrily, his fury causing him to shake. The giant sputtered and immediately threw his hands into the air.

"Hey! Calm down! You understand how it is!" he stammered, sweat forming on his head as he backed away slowly. To his discomfort, Duke followed him, walking closer, his eyes growing more dangerous.

"Oh I understand." He said, his voice low and menacing. "But I don't think that kid you killed did." He growled. The larger duck grinned suddenly and stopped moving.

"Does it matter?" he asked, causing Duke to frown. "He's just one of the 'lucky' ones. One of those who've never had to deal with all the crap that we have. Some one not like you and me. Ya know?" he asked. Duke fired and the large duck fell to the ground, blood flowing from a graze shot on his head.

"I'd like to keep it that way. For all kids. They don't need to have this kind of lifestyle." Duke growled angrily, even though none could hear him. He looked over at the body of the child and his face softened, his eyes changing to a look of pain. The small golden feathered duck couldn't have been older than twelve, his blonde hair tied back at the nape of his neck. So young, and yet… his life had ended so soon. His hands dropping to his sides Duke turned back to the fallen behemoth, a plan already in mind. "I'm not taking any blood on my hands, even if you're not innocent." With that he walked over and reached into the trench coat, finding wire inside which he wrapped around the goons wrists and ankles. Then he stood and folded up the switch blade, placing it in his front pocket and then putting the safety on the gun and stuffing it in the back of his pants, pulling the shirt over to cover it up. With that he walked away to the nearest pay phone. Several hours later the police came to find a dead child and murderer gift wrapped, complete with a red bow.

^-^

His hands stuffed in his pockets, Duke skated down the abandoned street carelessly, whistling some odd tune. There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he eyed behind him, knowing that he was being followed. The duck behind him may have been slim and fast, but good at sneaking up on someone he was not.

'Just a little farther short stack. Then you'll be on my turf.' He thought smugly. He skated around a curve into an abandoned neighborhood, his old home. His father had died when he was sixteen from alcohol poisoning, causing Duke to have to fend for himself… as if that were something new. Just this time he didn't have to deal with a drunk when he got back from… 'work'. 

Duke skated to the center of the street, looking around and smirking to himself when he saw his 'stalker' sneaking a glance around the corner. 'Oh don't worry. You won't loose me.' he thought, turning away and heading into one of the many empty houses. When he was fourteen, this decaying building which was more of a shack than a house, belonged to a family of underpaid ducks who worked their tailfeathers off and still didn't have the money to buy proper clothing, or even food. They were part of a religious group called 'The Servanthood', yet not even their friends were unable to help them out of this awful neighborhood, so Duke had gone one further. These people had dealt with his father for far too long. So on a night he'd 'borrowed' a sufficient sum of money (part of it 'donated' by a duck of the law) he grabbed an envelope, stuck the larger bills inside, dropped it on the doorstep, pounded on the door and ran. He'd gone far enough so that he wouldn't have been seen, but could watch to see if anyone came. The man of the house did and looked around, then down and picked up the envelope. Duke remembered the look on the mallards face as he looked to see what was inside; his eyes bugging out of his head and his jaw nearly dropping to the concrete stair underneath him. He'd turned and yelled for his wife, closing the door behind him so that none should hear his exclamations in case someone should try to steal the blessing granted him. They'd turned the money in to the police, but when none claimed it (and Duke made sure of that), it was returned to them a week later and they moved away. There was more than enough for them to get settled somewhere else and have their first child under the care of proper doctors. Duke never found out what happened to them after they'd left, and now that the house was empty it was fair to use it as a decoy.

He shut the door behind him and walked through the cramped housing, through the dusty kitchen, and to the back door. His hand was just touching the door knob when he heard the front door slammed in from a strong and swift kick. He turned to see the duck who'd been following him standing in the doorway, a dangerous smirk on his young face.

"Bet you weren't expecting that, were you?" he asked cockily, a strand of gray hair flopping over his left eye, his bright green eyes showing defiance and… what was that? Oh yes. Ignorance.

"Oh no." Duke smirked back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back on the door behind him. "I've been expecting you for quite some time actually." He grinned. The boy before him started in shock, then quickly regained his arrogant composure.

"Oh really?" he asked disbelievingly, Duke watching him with disinterest. "Why is that?" Duke rolled his eyes.

"You've been following me since I left that burger joint." At the younger mallards surprised look he rolled his eyes again, looking heavenward as if asking to be spared from such ridiculessness. Then he looked back at his 'stalker'. "Whoever taught you to follow someone should be shot for their lack of teaching skills. You blended in pretty well with the shadows, but you picked horrible hiding spots. You don't use your speed or size to your advantage. Seems you're spending too much of your time trying to keep up with me. If that had been so concerning to you, you should have taken to the roof tops." He stated. The younger mallard frowned at him.

"I don't need an old man to chew me out." He growled. A look passed over Duke's face, and a moment later the teen found himself thrown up against a wall, the elder mallard pressing up against him with a angry snarl in his throat and a vicious glare on his face.

"I may be older than you, but I am not an old man." He growled, his pride threatened and retaliating with a fury. He slammed the boy against the rotting wall causing dust to fall from the ceiling. "Now why were you following me?" he asked angrily. Staring at him with fearful eyes, the teen gulped.

"I-I… I want to join your gang!" he blurted. "I was going to fight with you to show you how much of an asset I am." With his bloated pride floating on the surface, he managed to give a cocky and shaky smirk. Duke frowned at him, then laughed aloud, his head thrown back. Then, as quickly as it started it stopped and he was glaring at the teen again.

"Gang?" he asked, an eyebrow raised. "I have no gang." He purred, his beak inches from the teens. "And if I did, I wouldn't let you join just because you followed me into an abandoned house. I let you follow me because I wanted to know what idiot would bother to trail me." he turned, the boy still in his grasp, then threw the duck to the floor, an 'oof' coming from the boy. "Asset my foot." Duke growled, the teen looking up at him in surprise and almost fear. "I should get rid of you… but I'm feeling gracious. I've seen you out on the street, and I know you're a fool. You have no skill and instead of starting out small, your go for the big prizes! Idiot! Start small, master what you can, then move on." He said angrily, his voice starting to rise. The teen on the floor glared at him, his face contorting with anger.

"No one turns me down!" he exclaimed, pulling a switchblade from his back pocket. Before he could lift himself off the floor however he was stopped with a golden saber at his throat. He started with surprise, staring with his jaw dropped at such a weapon. "H-how… How did you get one of those?" he asked, his voice almost in awe.

"I'll tell you only if you prove yourself." Duke growled. "Just remember that this is a trademark of The Brotherhood. You prove yourself and I'll tell all. But only if you prove yourself." He snatched the switchblade away from the teen and threw it across the room, embedding it in a door post all the way to the hilt. The teen was startled and stared at Duke fearfully.

"How?" he asked. Duke glared at him dangerously, the tip of his blade firm at the teens throat.

"Start small, learn more and be a better thief. Not some pathetic whiner who grabs something in broad daylight and makes a run for it with everyone getting a full description of him, and then getting arrested and lying about a crime that hundreds of people witnessed!" Duke said furiously. The green eyes widened.

"How did you…"

"Know? How could I not? Broad daylight, televised to boot! You little fool, thinking you'd be a great asset. You'd give me away with that loose and boastful tongue of yours. Say nothing of me, or the brotherhood… Or you'll find yourself in a gutter in a back alley." The last part came out in a growled warning and promise. "What's your name kid?"

"Icarus." The boy replied quickly, fear causing him to shake. Duke frowned.

"You come up with that yourself?" he asked. "From what your mother calls you, its Dennis." The green eyes widened unbelievably more.

"How… When…"

"I have eyes and ears everywhere." Duke purred, a dangerous smirk crossing his features in the darkness. "Remember that… and get off my turf. You want that name? You gotta earn it." He growled, moving away the golden blade and pushing the teen over sideways. "Get out of my sight." He snarled, the boy watching him fearfully. Then he stood shakily, looking over at his switchblade, then back at Duke.

"H-how will I find you?" he asked. Duke smirked once more, his own eyes dangerous.

"You don't. I'll find you." He promised, retracting the blade to only the hilt and holding it firmly in his hand. "Now get lost, before I change my mind about letting you live." Without waiting for anything else, the teen turned and fled the house at top speed, running as fast as his long legs could carry him.

"You sure that was a good idea Duke?" came a voice in the shadows. Duke turned to see a taller duck with brown feathers and short hair walk from the shadows of the kitchen wearing a black thieves outfit, a bronze blade attached to his left thigh, packets crossing his chest and strapped around his waist as well. His gray eyes looked at Duke calmly, almost sizing the darker mallard up. "He may think of retaliation you know." He stated calmly. Duke shrugged, attaching the hilt of his blade on his belt.

"He'll be dealing with all of us if he does that." He stated peevishly, walking over to the taller duck. He paused next to him and looked up. "Mind sparring with me some Donovan? I've got too much access energy that I really need to burn off." He growled. Donovan nodded and the two walked out through the backdoor into an overgrown backyard. Getting a good distance away from each other, they both pulled out their sabers, allowing the blades to come out. Then they attacked.

An hour later found them both walking wearily into the underground hockey dome that had been Duke's home away from home for years. A group of twenty ducks turned to look at them, a table set up in the middle of what had been the rink. Eight were sitting at this rectangular table, cards strewn about upon it, a poker game in progress. Four were missing their shirts, two their pants, and one his socks. He was wearing nothing more than black boxers and he blushed beneath his white feathers in embaressment at the smirk Duke gave him.

"Strip poker?" he asked, an eyebrow raised as Donovan fought to keep a straight face.

"Eh… we didn't feel like loosing any of our 'hard earned' money." One said sheepishly, a hand behind his head. He was one with no shirt or pants. Duke merely shook his head.

"Whatever guys." He muttered, looking around at the others. "Anybody find out anything interesting?" he asked. One of the standing ducks nodded.

"Yeah. Just in this morning." He said, pulling a paper clipping out of his back pants pocket. He walked over and handed it to Duke. It was a picture of a rather large gem that shown bright green. Duke smirked. It was a beauty, and just right for the taking.

"Nice." He said, pleased. He read the short article and grinned. "Aw, how sweet. One of the richer ducks of Puckworld decided to get this for his sixteen-year-old girlfriend." He said sarcastically. One of the ducks playing cards made a face.

"What's a sixteen-year-old gonna do with a jewel that nice?" he asked.

"Let it collect dust more than likely. Which is why we should go and… confinscate it. For the good of the jewel of course." There was a dark grin on Duke's face and a smirk on the faces of the mallards around him. "Alright boys. Get dressed and let's move out!"

o.o

It had been a few years since he'd seen the teenager named Dennis, but his boys had been watching for him, and from what he'd been told, the young mallard was doing well in learning… with a little help every now and then from the Brotherhood. Now Dennis, or Icarus as he wished to be named, stood before him quietly. The cockiness was gone, the pride mellower and a deep respect shown for the mallard before him.

"Well…" Duke took a deep breath, one arm crossed over his chest, the other hand on his chin as his eyes shown in mischief. "You've done well. You've earned that name you wanted I suppose." He grinned, winking at Donovan. The lighter feathered mallard gave a slight nod, still watching his leader carefully. Donovan trusted no one, least of all Duke seemingly for he kept himself in close range of his leader at all times. He never bothered to help out in tough situations, which bothered Duke to no end for members of the Brotherhood were supposed to look out for each other. 

Noting the taller mallards gaze he nodded as well, a finger running over the newly chipped part of his beak. He'd misjudged the distance between two rooftops, colliding with the edge and effectively giving himself a new scar. 

Icarus shifted, seemingly uncomfortable as his gaze traveled around the domed hockey arena. Duke watched him, then smirked.

"Welcome to the home of the Brotherhood of the Blade." He said proudly, dropping his hands and taking hold of his golden saber. It shimmered and came to full length. Icarus looked startled as all the mallards around him did the same, their sabers varrying in size and color. "If you agree to the rules, then you shall become a brother. You will make your own saber however you choose and will be taught how to use it effectively and efficiently. You will also be the apprentice of one of your older brothers, so that you may learn more about being an *honorable* thief."

"Honorable?" Icarus asked in surprise. He looked around, startled. "I always heard that there was no honor among thieves." Duke nodded shortly to him.

"Oh there's honor alright. In this mob at least." He smirked darkly at the surprised expression on Icarus' face. "What? Did you think that we were that low class?" he asked. He nodded to a medium sized duck with golden feathers and hair, his eyes a calm green. "Why, our brother Roland is a member of the high classed society that loathes us so much!" he grinned. Roland smirked and raised his silver saber a little.

"The Brotherhood allows much room for rise in public status." He said cheerfully. Duke smirked.

"Several other brothers stick to the middle class, to keep an eye on things you know." He explained. "In fact, Oliver…" he nodded to a gray feathered muscular mallard with blue eyes. "Lives across the street and three doors down from you." Duke's face suddenly darkened as he looked at Icarus. "So now you know where to run if you get into any trouble and can't get to your house quick enough. Oliver will show you some tricks to get under cover before you reach his place. Another thing…" He gave a slight nod. "His place is also good to go to when you're having… family problems." He said. Icarus looked at him quietly for a moment, then nodded and looked at his new 'brother'.

"Am I to be Oliver's apprentice?" he asked quietly. Duke nodded.

"He knows the most about you, and is close enough to get you out of any trouble that you may get into. He's already on good terms with your folks, we've made sure of that." He stated. He finally smiled and stuck out his hand in a friendly handshake. "Welcome… brother." Icarus smirked and the two clasped hands as the others cheered in pride.

^-^

Icarus was indeed an asset to the Brotherhood, having forged his own saber and taken to it quickly. He was left handed and teased Duke constantly of being ambidextrous, saying that Duke was merely suffering from indecision which could be dangerous. He also brought new members to the Brotherhood of the Blade, including the mobs first female member. It was surprising to have the young blonde duck prove herself to be dangerous and cunning, as well as loyal and willing enough to undergo harder tests than the others in order to prove herself. This she took all in stride and with pride. When she was made part of the Brotherhood she brought her twin sister into the group as well, causing many of the men to have trouble paying attention. The twins were beautiful and experts at seduction, which they practiced as often as they could, one of them following through and the other leaving them cold and wanting for she only had eyes for Icarus. Duke even had problems dealing with the two on occasion, often leaving the room before things could get out of hand. After a while he became immune to the two and they moved on, yet followed any and every order he gave. There were times when he had to catch himself around the two however, and he often wished he had the will of Donovan who merely ignored the two beautiful females as if they didn't exist unless he was carrying on a civil conversation with them.

It was the girls he was thinking of when he was watching the news at one of his 'brothers' homes. It was often he thought of them, amazed at himself for letting them in and proud that they were doing so well. For they had both done very well for the mob itself… and the men's moral for another thing. He smirked at the fleeting thought, then frowned and leaned forward as the scenes on the screen changed to show a twelve-year-old white feathered duck holding a two-year-old blonde haired duckling as he painfully watched a pair of body bags being carried out of a house. Then he suddenly turned away, fighting back tears and diverting his younger brothers attention.

_"…The two children are unharmed and will be placed in the custody of the city orphanage, as there have been no family members found."_ Duke frowned, unhappy that he'd missed the names, then frowned as the mug shot of a yellow feathered mallard appeared on the screen. He had clouded brown eyes, and messy brown hair. He was filthy looking, tall in stature and large in size. _"Their parents were murdered this morning by escaped convict Drake Everands. Police are unsure of his whereabouts, but are looking into it as we speak."_ Duke's frown deepened, his look darkening as the owner of the house walked in, a perplexed look on his face as he watched his leader. Duke stood as the area where the murder occurred was shown on the screen. He turned to the duck, his features angry.

"Round up our brothers." He growled darkly. "We're going hunting."

o.o

_"There are certain things that as a brother we do not take kindly. One is hurting a child. You do not touch children. If they see who you are, scare them, but don't you dare hurt them or I will turn you in myself. If you see anyone hurting a child, or you find that they have killed a child or are even thinking or doing anything to a child you are to fight them, be they a brother or not. I seriously **hope** that none of our brothers will ever stoop low enough to hurt someone so innocent. If you have to knock a child out, gas 'em. Also, don't kill anyone. We're not murderers. We're thieves. You can injure them enough to make them wish they were dead, but don't kill them. Wrap 'em up nice and pretty for the cops. They need something to do anyway, seeing as how they aren't gonna' catch any of us, and if they do, a brother will spring ya before too long if ya haven't managed to pick your locks quick enough. Still, seriously, if you have no choice go for the kill. Sometimes you have no other decision you can make. If the guy you're fighting is a brother gone bad… go for it. Loyalty is something not to be taken lightly here folks. Watch your brothers backs, even if someone might not watch you, you're family here._

"Another thing. Rapists, murderers, child abusers… anyone who takes kids and hurts them, we don't stand for that and that is when we actually work with the cops without their knowing. You all know for a fact that the police here are seriously… lacking in finesse and edge. We gotta' do something guys. I know we're thieves and placed on the same level as these guys, but we're not the same. We've got honor, I've even seen each and everyone of you helping out those lacking in certain areas when money gets involved. We won't stand for nut cases who are gonna' hurt the people. We've got to have some one to steal from…"

These were the words spoken every time a member was added to the Brotherhood of the Blade, and before they went out on 'missions'. However, this night they'd been gathered together to see something they weren't used to. Duke, as good a leader as he was, had never before shown such seriousness and anger in his features and stance. His eyes were cold as he looked around the rink, balancing upon the boards as he watched the large group collect, the few stragglers hurrying in to watch him in confusion.

"Anyone hear about Drake Everands?" was the loud and firm question that caused silence to overcome the room. There was anger hidden behind the question and it caused many to become uncomfortable. "Convict. Sentence was life for mass murder on multiple occasions." Duke told them, looking around and spotting Donovan in the shadows, leaning on one of the many pillars that kept the ceiling in place. Donovan's face darkened at his leaders look and he nodded in agreement as if he already knew Duke's plans. Duke looked back at his mob, the elder members serious, the newer members confused. "He has escaped and already taken the lives of a married couple leaving their kids orphaned." He explained. "The police are looking for him, but with them on the job it could take weeks or even months, and each day that he's out there is one day too many." His look changed to a glare, his men watching him in waiting. "Forget any plans you've had boys. We're heading out tonight. Check the countryside, check the city, everywhere. You find any sign of him…" he raised his arm to show a black communicator on his wrist, attached to his maroon thieves outfit. "You contact me immediately." He ordered. Nods met him and he looked around. "I want a group of you to stay here, especially you doc." He nodded at one of the newer members in a lab coat. "You're too valuable and I don't want to loose you if you get 'lucky' enough to find this nutcase." He returned his attention to the others. "Well… let's move out ladies!"

O.O

Duke nodded to Icarus who hurried up to the old one room country house that held a dim light in its broken window. Donovan was watching the younger mallard carefully as another brother watched the front door, his partner watching their 'prey'. Drake was inside playing some card game, a couple of bodies lying at his feet. Icarus situated himself underneath the window and began fooling around with something close to the ground. He cut something with his switchblade and grinned cheekily in the darkness as Drake cursed at the sudden power outage. Duke and Donovan both nodded, the other two ducks heading to the door and plowing it open as they rushed forwards. Drake gave a startled cry as he was run over, then stood as Icarus burst through the window, Duke and Donovan following and drawing their sabers. The yellow mallard looked around, fury in his eyes, as he found himself at the wrong end of five sabers.

"Don't move." Duke growled. 

"Or what? You'll poke my eye out?" the larger mallard growled, standing at full height to show that he was a full head taller than the five. He grinned, his eyes flashing with sick glee. "This is going to be fun. That old couple didn't put up much of a fight." He purred, Icarus shooting Duke a panicked look. This guy held no fear! Duke quickly looked at his younger 'brother' and then looked back at Drake, only to cry out a warning at the quick move of the yellow duck. The warning came too late and with the firing of a puck launcher one of his men fell dead. Another firing noise came as they all leapt back, another brother crying out in pain as the puck sliced through the top of his shoulder.

"He's using sharpened pucks!" Icarus cried in warning, only to dodge a shot and cry out as the puck grazed his arm. Another cry was quickly cut short with a sickening snapping noise from another duck and Duke started. Icarus was standing, holding his arm and Donovan was staring wide eyed in disbelief. Drake had just killed two of their men, and was now turning, a blade in hand.

"Come on guys. I'm out of ammo, so this should be interesting." He was grinning, his teeth shining in the darkness. Blind with fury, Duke came out swinging, yelling as he fought the large duck without mercy. He ignored the warnings of Donovan and Icarus, and fought without care of his surroundings, even though they were ripping the place apart. He only had eyes for his enemy, and his enemy was laughing at him, fueling his anger. 

"Is this the best you can do? Come on! I've fought children better than you!" with a roar of fury, Duke lashed out, the blades sparking and clanging against each other. The two pushed each other backwards and around, and finally with a loud cry Duke managed to push Drake back against the wall. With one powerful swipe of his saber he knocked the stolen saber from Drake's hands, the tip of his blade at the larger ducks neck.

"You are going to regret this night." Duke growled heatedly, panting. The whole battle had taken a matter of minutes, yet it had seemed longer to the ones fighting. Drake merely smirked.

"I think you've got that one confused." He purred. With surprising speed that could only be fueled by insanity, he slapped Duke's saber away and lunged for his stolen saber, picked it up quickly, turned, and with one swipe got Duke in the right eye. Duke fell back with a loud cry of pain, dropping his saber, his hands flying to the pain that caused him to fall to the floor. Vibrations in the old wooden floor made him look up with his good eye, ignoring the searing pain, to see Drake standing over him.

"It's been fun boy. But it's over now." Drake purred, a sick smile on his face.

"Not yet." Drake's back suddenly arched upwards, his eyes widening, and the saber fell from his hand to the floor with a clang, retracting back to the hilt as Drake fell to the floor. Duke looked up to see Icarus standing over the unconscious duck as Donovan leant over to pick up Duke's saber coolly. The younger mallard looked at Duke quietly. "Let him live?" he asked, his silver saber at Drake's neck. Duke frowned, then winced, putting his hand over the wound.

"No." he muttered darkly. "He's too dangerous." He growled. Donovan helped him up, then drapped an arm around him to steady him. "We'll drop his sorry carcass off at city hall." He stated. Then he quieted. Two brothers dead, two injured. This had not been an easy fight. He then sighed as Icarus made short work of the insane mallard on the floor and gave into unconsciousness.

-.-

Pain. It was the first thing he'd been aware of when he'd come to, the second thing was the odd feeling on his face. When he tried to sit up, hands pushed him back down onto the uncomfortable table he was laying on.

"Hold on a moment Duke. You've lost a lot of blood." Came an aged voice, which he quickly recognized to be one of the members of the Brotherhood. The doctor of the mob in fact.

"Wha…" he stopped and blinked slowly. It took him a moment to realize that only one eye was opening and closing, the other totally blackened out. "My eye…"

"Yeah. It's gone for good my friend." Doc, as the Brotherhood called him, told him calmly as he focused on something that looked like a patch with wires. "A few collegues of mine helped me to make you a new one of course." He stated, finally looking up and smiling weakly at his leader. "As soon as I get this fixed, I'll let you have it and then you can go sit in the meeting room with the others. They've made a recording of this mornings news broadcast and have been playing it all day." He explained. At the look on Duke's face he smirked. "You've been unconscious for nearly a full day. It's five in the afternoon." Duke sighed.

"Guess I needed my beauty sleep then." He muttered, sitting up despite Doc's warnings. "I'm fine." Was his reply. The elder mallard merely frowned at him then returned his attention to what he'd been doing for the last few hours. Then he set down his tools and lifted the eye patch and handed it to Duke.

"Try it on." He said with a smile. Duke rolled his eye and placed the patch over what had been his right eye. He was startled when the world came into view with his right 'eye', only in red. "The coloring may need some getting used to, but at least now you have night vision." Doc was saying as Duke looked around in startled surprise.

"Cool!" was the only thing Duke could think to say, gaining a chuckle from the older mallard before him. He grinned. "Thanks!" Doc nodded at him, the shook his head as Duke leapt off the table and stood still for a moment, regaining his bearings.

"Guess I'm not going to be able to stop you from running around." He muttered, then frowned. "But you are to rest as much as you can. No heists for the next couple of days. Got that?" he asked, pointing at Duke accusingly. Duke merely smirked at him.

"Yeah. Sure." He stated cooly. Doc shook his head and waved him off.

"Go on. Get out of here. The others are going to get worried." He claimed. Duke merely shook his head and walked out of the room, looking around in fascination of his new 'eye'. Walking into the meeting room was fun as well as he was mobbed by several 'brothers', each of them glad to see him awake and roaming the place. The meeting room was an old office room where many years of gambling on the outlawed hockey games had taken place. Now it was merely a room where the members of the Brotherhood of the Blade could come and relax. There was gambling in here as well as a pool table, a bar, and a large screen television, 'donated' by one of the upperclass citizens. On the screen a news broadcast was being rewound to be played again as it had been all day, several brothers lounging and cheering as if they'd had too much to drink. More than likely, many of them had and it appeared as if Icarus were one of them. Duke frowned, yet didn't bother him as he and Kelsy, one of the twins, left quickly albeit unsteadily. Duke wasn't one for drinking, but it wasn't his place to say anything. He'd had his turn at partying before, so why shouldn't everyone else? Just as long as they didn't let it get out of hand…

"DUKE!!!" a pair of arms wrapped around him and he grunted as he was lifted off the floor by… Donovan?! He started with surprise as his usually quiet friend set him down, laughing heartily with the others.

"Donnie?" Duke asked as his friend released him. "How much have you had to drink?" he asked. Donovan laughed at him, someone yelling that the tape was about to start again. The yell was answered by cheers.

"Just a little." Donovan promised with a wink, holding up a bottle that was almost empty. Duke took it from him with a frown and set it on a table.

"Yeah. A little. I know how you get after just 'a little'. You're going to be sick." He warned. Donovan merely waved him off and grabbed another drink, only to scowl at Duke as this too was snatched from him.

"Get your own!" he exclaimed. Duke frowned at him.

"No more for you." He stated, setting the drink away and heading for the couches, Donovan in tow. He plopped down and sighed as Donovan fell onto the cushions miffed.

"I've only had one." Was the muttered reply.

"And a half."

"How do *you* know?"

"I can smell it on ya. Besides, you get incredibly tipsy after just one, you don't need anymore, I promise you."

"Yeah right. So tell me, what am I like wasted, huh? I'm not that bad!" Duke turned to his friend with a deep frown.

"You're passed out on the floor. That's dangerous!" he stated. Donovan merely shook his head and quieted as the newscaster reported the appearance of Drake Everand's body on the steps of City Hall, wrapped in a bright pink bow. Donovan smirked as Duke chuckled.

"You said to make 'em nice and pretty." He grinned mischievously.

_"The chief of Police was not happy that Drake was dead, and is wondering who 'B.O.B.' is."_ The reporter was saying. Duke gave Donovan an odd look, the taller mallard grinning.

"We put a piece of paper on the ribbon that said 'B.O.B. was here'. Thought it was cute." He explained.

"Bob?"

"Brotherhood of the Blade. Not that they know that anyway."

_"Still, whoever Bob is, we the citizens of DuCaine city thank him."_ At the reporters words, cheers erupted throughout the room, then laughter.

"MORE DRINKS!!" someone yelled happily. The cheers became louder and Duke shook his head as Donovan leapt up to get one. The now one eyed mallard grabbed his friends shirt and pulled him back, standing and then grabbing the mallards arm.

"Come on. This place isn't a very good influence on you right now." He stated.

"Oh come on! Just one!"

"You've already had one."

"Another one then. You can have one too!"

"If you were sober, you'd realize how stupid you sound."

"But I am sober… whoa!" Duke hefted his friend up as the taller mallard tripped.

"Right…" he muttered, still dragging his friend away from the party in the meeting room, Donovan talking and complaining the entire way.

o.o

The one problem with being a mob leader is that you had to deal with other mob leaders, and some of them were outright upstarts. The Razorbills were one of the worst, bothering the Brotherhood at any and every chance they got. Like tonight.

Duke had just stolen a large ruby from its casing in one of the many museums when something slammed into the back of his head causing stars to burst before his eyes. He fell to the floor, dropping the ruby which clinked away from him and coming to rest at the feet of a duck in a dark suit. The duck bent over and picked up the ruby, chuckling as he looked it over, then grinned darkly at Duke who was staring up at him in shock, which quickly turned to a look of anger.

"Hey! Who are you and what the heck do you think you're doing? That's mine jerk!" he cried, standing, only to grunt as two larger ducks grabbed his arms, holding him in place. The duck holding his ruby smirked and walked forward.

"It's mine now you waste of feathers." He purred, pulling out a puck launcher. "Thank you for your service to the Razorbills mob."

"Razorbills?" Duke snorted. "Who came up with that stupid name? Sounds more like a teenage gang than a mob." He grinned darkly as a look of anger flashed over the ducks face.

"Why you… I'll show you." He growled. With that he punched Duke, knocking the darker mallard backwards. A cocking noise made him look up. "I'll teach you to disrespect the leader of the Razorbills." He growled, the ruby in one hand and the puck launcher in the other. Just as he was about to pull the trigger however, the gun was knocked from his hands by a shot from another puck launcher, causing the four ducks on the floor to look upwards. Donovan stood there with a dangerous smirk on his face, waving the puck launcher.

"You guys ought to be more careful with your weapons." He purred darkly. Duke smirked. The most words Donovan had said in one sentence when sober to an enemy. The mob leader before him yelled angrily and fired at Donovan, only to cry out as the ruby was snatched neatly from his grasp, his puck launcher knocked away as well. He found himself at the wrong end of Duke's saber.

"And I'll teach you not the disrespect the leader of the Brotherhood of the Blade." The one eyed mallard purred calmly, pocketing the ruby and slashing at the shorter smartly dressed mallard. The top part of the suit fell to the floor as Donovan sliced one of the larger ducks guns in half and with one kick, knocked the two over backwards.

"Get out of here." The brown feathered mallard growled to them, watching them as they ran, Duke grinning at the mob leader in front of him.

"You sure know how to get in over your head." He claimed.

"Not as well as you do." Came a voice from behind. His eyes widened as Donovan started in surprise, his blade lowering as he looked past Duke. Duke turned slowly to see a giant of a duck towering over him, his feathers bronze in coloring. With a swipe of his arm he sent Duke flying away with a pained grunt. When he hit the floor his saber fell away from him, retracting back to just the hilt. The smaller Razorbill looked up at the giant before him and suddenly dropped to one knee.

"Sir… I'm sorry…" he said quickly, almost fearfully. He paused when the duck moved past him.

"Get out of here. I'll deal with you later." The larger duck growled. The smaller one merely leapt up and ran for his life fearfully. "Upstarts." The giant said, moving over towards Duke and ignoring Donovan. "Always trying to take higher positions before they're even empty." Duke merely shook his head, trying to clear it, only to cry out as he was kicked harshly in the gut, then grunted as a foot pressed down on his back, a puck launcher cocking right next to his head. "The Brotherhood of the Blade. You're always in my way." The behemoth of a duck growled. "So I'm going to rid myself of you, and take the ruby off your dead carcass."

"Not in this lifetime freak." Came a cold voice. There was a grunt and the puck launcher hit the floor next to Duke's head. The weight lifted from his back as the mob leader fell over lifeless, Donovan quickly bending over to scoop Duke and his saber up off the floor as sirens filled the air. "Come on! Let's get out of here!" he hissed. Duke nodded, then fired a grappling puck upwards, then held onto Donovan so as not to drop him and leave him behind as they were lifted up to the roof. Once on the roof they ran as quickly as they could without being detected till they were at a safe distance. Then they stopped and rested underneath a large sign pointing down at the burger restaurant beneath them.

"Well… that was a waste." Donovan muttered, Duke watching him quietly.

"You think so?" Duke asked, reaching into a pocket and pulling out the ruby, a tired grin crossing over him face. Donovan smirked at him.

"Good thing I saved your sorry tail feathers then, huh?" he asked, gaining a chuckle from Duke.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." The two sat in silence for a long while, resting till they felt they were able to head back to the underground hockey dome. When they did, Duke felt a since of pride welling up within him. For years he'd been trying to gain his friends trust, for Donovan only protected the ones he trusted, which were none… till now.

As the years progressed Duke found himself and Donovan working together instead of alone as they were prone to do, relying on each other to pull ones fat from the fire. They became well known on Puckworld, the Brotherhood of the Blade becoming the most famous mob planet wide. It was because of his fame of being the leader of the mob that Duke was chosen later in life to become part of a team of rebels, also known as the Mighty Ducks.

****

End

*** 

Hello everyone. Sorry this took so long to get out. I've been… stuck in the middle of multiple college activities that fried my poor defenseless brain into submission, keeping me from doing what I love. Writing these stories. I hope to finish my other work in progress soon, seeing as how the ideas how emerged once more and are floating around in my head. Now all I have to do is find time… Ah well. Hope you enjoyed this, and please remember that this is just my POV on Duke's past. *shrugs* hope you like it. Anyway… Tootles!

*** 

Mighty Ducks belong to Disney and none other than Disney. If I owned them, I'd make more episodes. But I don't own them, so I can't, and therefore I borrow the characters and write stuff. And I'm rambling now so I'll shut up…


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